


That One Time In Prague

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Banter, Con Artists, Flirting, Gen, Handcuffs, Headcanon, Platonic Relationships, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ten years ago, I saw you the first time. You were swiping a Degas from a collection in Prague. I saw you, you saw me. - I ran, you chased."</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Time In Prague

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vicky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky/gifts).



> Okay, so this isn't the Degas story. It is, however, the tale of the single most often referenced piece of headcanon in my entire Leverage fanfiction writing career - the time that Sophie left Nate handcuffed to the staircase of a brothel in Prague.
> 
> And after writing the Castle crossover for you last year, vickysg1, I knew you were the right person to gift it to. Thank you for joining us again!

_Know your enemy._

One near miss she could chalk up to chance. Two was bad luck – Grandpa Peter had always encouraged her to make her own luck, but Sophie had been in the game long enough to understand that sometimes forces just aligned themselves against you.

The third time she narrowly missed being walked out of a museum in handcuffs however, she decided that the time was likely past to take decisive action. Whoever this new insurance investigator was who’d caught her scent, he wasn’t going to stop until she figured out a way to convince him it was in his best interest.

Her motivation was helped by the fact that in addition to casing the Metropolitan, she had been playing a long con on one of New York’s most eligible bachelors. Recently Richard had insisted on bringing her home to meet his twelve year old daughter, and she’d had no logical reason for Katherine to refuse.

Once she’d met Alexis Castle, Sophie knew she was finished. The girl was smart and beautiful, but had a sweetness encouraged and supported by the fact that her father was absolutely devoted to her. Their relationship hit all the wrong buttons for Sophie in all the right ways, and even though it meant walking away from a sizeable pay-out she knew she couldn’t go through with destroying a child’s innocence the way hers had been.

So Katherine Cleeves got on a plane at JFK International Airport one warm Tuesday afternoon, telling no one she was leaving or where she was going.

Two days later Katherine had vanished, and Jenny Agutter was returning to her apartment in downtown Prague. It was a perfect place for her to entrench and regroup in the face of this latest threat to her freedom, and the perfect way to do it. Jenny was a British ex-pat, world traveler, and a fixture in the Czechoslovakian nightclub scene.

Prague was also where one of the best hackers she knew had chosen to hang his very black hat. Three thousand euros and two days being bored out of her mind in the coffee shop that was their dead drop later, she was returning to her suite with a flash drive containing everything there was to know on one Nathan Michael Ford.

At first glance the man appeared as straight as they came. One of the highest retrieval rates in his company’s history, with no hint that he’d ever taken a bribe – cash or otherwise – to look the other way. “Oh look,” Sophie snarked, taking a sip of her tea, “you’re married too.” Rather than the expected brainless debutante, Dr. Margaret Collins was considered to be the best in her field of artistic authentication. IYS had her on the payroll, but Karl had assembled a very long list of very high powered clients who had also employed “Maggie” on a contract basis.

Seduction was the first course of action that sprang to mind to take Ford out of her way, but nothing in the initial batch of documents suggested to Sophie that this would be a successful tactic. Not to mention she was pretty sure she’d lost any taste for handcuffs and Nathan Ford in the same sentence back in New York.

“Let’s see what there is below the surface then, shall we?” Drawing a finger across the touchpad, she clicked on the first link.

It was a revelation. Stunned at what she was seeing presented to her as fact, Sophie was finally forced to set her tea down so that she didn’t risk a disaster. “White hat not so white then, is it love?” she queried, scrolling through a family history so deeply entrenched in the Irish mob Ford likely could have been a powerhouse in Boston’s organized crime scene by now if he was the sort to trade on his name.

The fact that he not only hadn’t claimed what was arguably his birthright, but had in fact gone in a different direction altogether, spoke volumes to Sophie. Instinct led her to click on the link Karl had provided for a deeper look at Ford’s education, and when she saw the Divinity School at Boston College listed among the institutions that had a hand in educating him, Sophie almost laughed out loud.

“A good Catholic boy!” she exclaimed, unconsciously lapsing into a brogue. “Ah, you precious darling, I think we can definitely have some fun with that.”  
****************************************  
“Of course she’s gone.” Nate didn’t know why he bothered being surprised by this target anymore. “Identification is checked when an individual gets _on_ a flight. Once she cleared customs in Prague, nobody would care what happened to her.”

“You’re missing one thing.” Jim Sterling, his occasional partner and the best friend he had, was smirking in that way that told Nate he had something big he was waiting to spring. “I never said she cleared customs in Prague.”

 _That_ got his attention. “She screwed up. Went for the big move instead of the smart one.” He’d long suspected his mysterious target had a flare for the theatrical and this information proved it. “Katherine Cleeves had a background in theater,” he said. “Please tell me…” He let his voice trail off, because Sterling’s grin had grown even wider and under the circumstances Nate was more than willing to let him have his moment.

“Jenny Agutter appears on the list of passengers clearing customs, but not on the manifest of passengers boarding in New York.”

And that was a connection they’d never been able to make before now. Katherine was lace and high society. She tended to frequent the great cities of Europe and America, where Jenny was decidedly coarser. Leather, vodka and Slavic countries were the things Nate associated her with in his head. “I scared her,” he said finally. “In New York. She didn’t see me coming and it rattled her.”

“Can I just take a moment to point out that you still haven’t put eyes on her?” Sterling observed. “Right now my friend, you are operating on speculation and the most circumstantial of evidence chains.”

Nate was forced to acknowledge the truth of his words. “She’s running,” he said, knowing that he had nothing but the screaming of every instinct he had to back up the assertion. “We know what alias she’s operating under now, we know _where_ she’s operating – now’s the time to press the advantage.”

Adrenaline surging through him, he got up and began to pace. “I need to get to Prague now, before she has a chance to regroup.”

Jim looked doubtful. “You haven’t met with Ian yet, to update him on what happened in New York. Not to mention you’ve just come off how many hours on a plane? Take a night – hell, take a shower – and start fresh tomorrow.”

It was all sensible advice, but Nate knew he wouldn’t be following it. The chase had always affected him like this, and Katherine…Jenny…whoever she was, was proving to be one of the most worthy adversaries he’d ever run across.

“Just remember what happens to quarry when you run it to ground,” was the last thing he heard Sterling say as he gathered up his things and headed down to accounting to beg them to extend his expense account for another couple of weeks.

Maggie was predictably unhappy when he called. “You promised you would take some time after New York,” she sighed. “Nate…”

“I know,” he said – realizing as the words had left him that he’d spoken a shade too quickly. “You can’t expect me to ignore this chance though,” he added. “Linking Katherine Cleeves and Jenny Agutter is the first really significant lead we’ve gotten on nearly three dozen thefts throughout Europe and Great Britain. She’s made her first mistake that we know of; now might be the best chance I have to get her.”

He swallowed down his nerves as best he could, looking longingly at the whiskey he’d ordered before making the requisite call home. He didn’t want to fight with Maggie – far from it – but long experience going back to his own parents had taught him that a small fight now was infinitely preferable to a larger fight later.

“Nate, are you listening?”

Startled, Nate buried his face in his free hand as he realized he’d momentarily checked out of the conversation. “Maggie, I haven’t slept in nearly forty-eight hours chasing this down. I’m sorry I’m not coming home like I promised, and I’m sorry I’m not on my game right now. Can we finish talking about this when I get back?”

The silence on the phone stretched out long enough that he began to worry she’d hung up on him. She’d done that only twice over the course of their relationship, and each time he’d sworn he would never make her that upset again. _You’re lucky she sees something in your sorry ass,_ he thought, just before she spoke.

“Can I chase some leads for you while you’re in transit?”

It was literally the last thing he’d expected her to say, but once his brain was willing to accept that the offer had been made and was genuine, his only response was “Yes, please – that would be amazing. I’ll have wi-fi access on the plane and I have all my files, but…”

“…but it’s no match for a good Ethernet connection,” Maggie finished for him. “I get it. Fill me in on where you are with this and I’ll see what looks promising.”  
*************************  
After two full days and the better part of a third spent with her head in the files Karl had given her, Sophie knew she needed a break. Nathan Ford wasn’t going to be an easy problem to crack, and her thought processes were starting to spin down into some very dark places. _You’re a grifter,_ she reminded herself as she dressed for a night in Prague’s club district. _And a grifter with standards on top of that._ New York had proven that, much to her dismay, along with the knowledge that Ford and his wife had a newborn son. Ordinarily it didn’t hamper her activities much – now it meant that all the easier ways of dealing with Ford were off the table.

By ten thirty a cab was letting her off in front of the Roxy, one of the trendier clubs in Prague. Jenny was a risk taker. She liked everything cutting edge, and Sophie had found that the marks who frequented such places were easier to snare and tended to see waking up without their wallets as part of the price of taking her back to their beds.

When they found out three to five days later that their bank accounts had been cleared Sophie suspected they felt less charitable, but she’d never stuck around long enough to verify the theory.

The bouncer at the door waved her past the line of people waiting and hoping to get in. Sophie favored him with a grateful smile, a kiss on the cheek and a twenty euro note in his palm as she walked past to the “inner sanctum”.

The group on stage was a band she didn’t recognize, but the sound was directly out of the German techno-industrial music scene and perfectly suited her mood. Sophie headed straight for the center of the dance floor, pausing every few feet to exchange a few steps with people she recognized.

There was a lively group in the middle of the floor. Sophie recognized about half of them and they were all genuinely happy to see her. Smiling, she danced along with them for the balance of the band’s current song and well into the next one before Pietro caught her by the arm and gestured towards the bar.

Past ready to get her night’s buzz going, Sophie nodded and followed him off the floor. When they reached the long bar that took up an entire wall of the club, he signaled the bartender then turned and swept her up into a rib-creaking hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek before setting her back on the floor.

“I didn’t know!” she answered, which was truthful enough. “Would you believe I was homesick?”

Pietro raised a single eyebrow – a trick she’d always been impressed by ever since she’d determined it was a lot more difficult to do than first glance might have suggested. “I believe you got yourself in a bind and knew we would still protect that sweet little ass of yours.”

It was one of the many reasons she’d been careful about who she plied her trade on in Prague. When you were making as big a name for yourself as fast as Sophie was managing, having a group of people who accepted you completely for who you were – okay, who they thought you were – was a valuable thing for a grifter to have.

“Guilty,” she admitted. “An American playboy in the south of France.” She raised a hand and affected as sincere an expression as she could manage. “I swear I will never be so foolish again.”

That got a laugh out of him, as he’d expected. “You could at least stick to chasing the women, Jenny,” he said. “I keep telling you that you cannot fake an attraction to men.”

Sophie was never sure what instinct led her to designate each of her aliases with their own unique sexual orientation, but in Jenny’s case making the errant party girl openly gay had lead in some interesting directions. “How is Monica?” she asked, knowing that Pietro would expect her to inquire about the young artist she’d had as a lover the last time she’d spent longer than a few days in the city.

“Finally starting to get over you, thank God,” he said. “I love you like one of my own, Jen, but if I had to hand-hold her through one more night of crying and wondering what she’d done to drive you away, I was going to hunt you down myself.”

Sophie felt only the smallest twinge of guilt at his pronouncement. She’d run with this circle long enough to understand this was how Monica handled the end of _every_ relationship. Sophie hadn’t wanted to get involved with the high-strung artist, but it would have looked strange for Jenny not to at least try a bite of that particular apple.

The bartender returned at that moment. Sophie felt her heart skip a beat as she noticed that only one of the drinks in his hand was the expected bottle of imported beer. The other was an amber colored liquid over ice in a high ball glass. A wedge of orange and a cherry had been speared and left to be supported by the ice.

“Oy mate,” Pietro said, his normally Slavic accent drowned out by his outrage. “I said two Svetly!”

The bartender was pleasant enough, but completely immune to Pietro’s outrage. “The whiskey is a gift from the gentleman at the end of the bar,” he said, gesturing down the long line of thirsty patrons.

Stepping on the brass rail, Sophie leaned across the bar and followed his line of sight. “Bugger,” she breathed, seeing Nate Ford leaning forward watching her. As their eyes locked on each other, Ford raised his glass in salute.

“Jenny?” Pietro asked, grabbing her arm and breaking her attention. “Do you know that guy?”

Her heart was suddenly beating so fast she couldn’t breathe. Pulling back out of Ford’s line of sight, she looked up at Pietro. Her friend sighed, his expression indicating that he understood. “Hide out at my place tonight,” he said, passing her his key. “Just until you can do a proper reconnaissance on your suite.”

Sophie accepted the key gratefully. It was disturbing to think that Nate Ford had tracked her across her known aliases and found her in Prague this quickly. Hiding out someplace unexpected was the most strategically sound move she could make.  
*************************  
It took Nate longer than it should have to get free of the press of people crowding the club. He stumbled into the street just in time to see his quarry disappear into a cab. For half a second he was tempted to flag down a cab of his own and try to follow her, but it was obvious she was on something resembling home turf and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was coming up on fifty-five hours with little to no sleep.

He was going to send Maggie a room full of her favorite yellow roses as soon as he got back to his hotel, though. In a few short hours she had taken his tenuous connection between Katherine Cleeves and Jenny Agutter and turned it into something so tight she’d literally dropped him right on top of her.

 _Now the only question is, why is she here? Is she trying to hole up, or does she have a job lined up?_ His thoughts were spinning with fatigue though – he was barely able to concentrate long enough to place the flower order for Maggie before toeing off his shoes and falling asleep on top of the covers.

Waking up to dark skies outside his hotel window had been disorienting until he looked at the clock and his cell phone and determined that he had slept for nearly twenty-hours without waking. Nate didn’t like that he’d lost nearly a full day to his body’s weakness, but after a shower and a change of clothes he was forced to concede that the chance to recharge himself had been necessary.

“There’s no indication she’s left the country,” Sterling reported when he called to check in.

Scowling, Nate paced the length of his balcony. Below, lights were already on across the city, and the noise of Prague’s nightlife was starting to rise. “There wouldn’t be, would there?” he grumbled. “I screwed up – showed my cards too soon.”

“It’s been how many days since your last confession?” Sterling asked drily. “Seriously mate, you need to learn how to keep that Catholic upbringing of yours in check. Yes she might have fled, but we’re starting to get chatter about somebody looking to make a play for the Andropov jewels.”

Nate searched his memory for information on the collection. “They’re going on display this month at the Castle Gallery?” he asked, looking for confirmation.

Sterling made a noise that sounded like agreement. “Ian’s in a froth – he doesn’t trust security at the museum and we don’t have anybody on the ground anywhere close…” His friend’s voice trailed off, and Nate grinned.

“Okay, okay. Tell him I’m in country. Give me the name of the security head at the museum and I’ll check in with the guy in the morning.”

“That’s my company-man talking,” Sterling said brightly. “You sure you don’t want help on this one? I can be on a flight in a few hours, catch up with you in the morning?”

Nate gave the question serious consideration. On one level he felt perfectly up to the challenge of crossing swords with Jenny or Katherine, or whoever she was, but looking at the problem realistically an extra pair of hands couldn’t hurt. Finally the time and distance needed for Sterling to reach him decided it. “Gut says this is going to be over one way or the other by the time you could get here. Thanks though.”

He debated with himself the wisdom of showing himself in the public dining room versus a little more privacy to study up on his quarry. In the end he called room service – the need to arm himself with as much information as possible about Jenny Agutter as he could winning out over the possibility that she’d successfully traced him to this hotel and might be watching.

The idea that she might be watching him, even now, caused an unexpectedly pleasant, very physical reaction. Inhaling deeply and willing himself to relax, Nate leaned on the balcony railing and tried to let his thoughts float for a bit.

He hadn’t expected to get such a good, clear look at her at the bar – hell, he hadn’t expected the move to work at all. The fact that even at a distance she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, coupled with the fact that she’d recognized him – and, in the privacy of his own mind he could admit it, the idea that she might be genuinely afraid of him – was more of an aphrodisiac than he was prepared to cope with.

 _You should call Maggie._ The time difference would be in his favor for many more hours, and even if it wasn’t she’d forgiven him waking her up in the past.

A knock on his door signaling the arrival of his food effectively derailed that course of action, but fortunately helped settle his thoughts on the elusive Jenny. _She’s a thief,_ he thought, settling in with all the data he had on his quarry to keep him company while he ate. _Just like every other one you’ve brought to justice._  
*************************************  
The idea to draw Ford out herself had struck Sophie around three o’clock in the morning when she felt Pietro slip into bed next to her. Her friend had quietly kissed her shoulder, than turned over with his back to her. After a few moments she heard his breathing even out and a light, rhythmic snoring begin.

The thought of staging a theft anywhere close to someplace she considered “home territory” went against everything she’d ever been taught, but Sophie knew she was going to have to go big in order to convince a terrier like Nate Ford to back off and leave her alone. Not to mention that now her initial rush of adrenaline from seeing him in the Roxy had faded, she was left with a deep and burning desire to make him regret his scoring off her like he had.

Sophie left Pietro’s apartment mid-morning, taking only a croissant and a cup of coffee and leaving him a hastily scrawled note of thanks – letting him know that she would be in touch by dark. She still didn’t know if her own apartment was entirely secure, but there were things there she needed if she was going to put Ford off her case for good. Agreeing to stay in touch with Pietro and keep him at least provisionally informed of her movements then became a tidy failsafe in case things went wrong as well as a means of keeping her friend from charging to her rescue at the wrong moment.

Pietro would put up with a great deal of Jenny’s shenanigans, but knowledge of her involvement in outright theft would bring everything she had in Prague to a horrible, screeching halt.

By the time she reached her apartment, Sophie had decided that making herself at least somewhat of a target could potentially work in her favor. If Ford had been smart enough to run her to ground here, it was a safe bet that he either had her address or would have it soon. She’d never made any particular effort to hide Jenny’s presence in the city – the girl was much more of a con artist than straight-up thief, after all, and eastern European governments tended not to worry about such matters as much as the western world did.

In order to take back control of the game, Sophie would have to lay a trail of breadcrumbs Ford couldn’t help following. _He’s going to assume I’m running scared,_ she thought, logging onto the local network and starting the somewhat laborious process of getting into IYS’ servers. She was going to have to use that to her advantage – making the moves Ford would assume in order to lead him in the direction she needed him to go.

 _Jewelry,_ she decided finally, looking at the list of property IYS covered that was already in the city or on its way here. She would have maybe a few hours’ worth of a window to pull the heist, put a spike in her pursuer, and get the hell out of the city.

 _Hopefully not for good,_ she thought, settling on the Andropov collection – royal jewelry from one of the last great noble families of pre-Soviet Russia that supposedly hadn’t been seen by the public for nearly fifty years. It wasn’t the sort of temptation Jenny would ordinarily bite at, but Katherine definitely would along with at least four of her other aliases. _Got to work this the way Ford thinks,_ she reminded herself, struggling to ignore the screaming of her instincts that she not break character like this.

The sky was darkening outside her window when her phone rang. “I’m fine love,” she said by way of greeting. “You didn’t need to call.”

_”I appreciate the concern, but by the same token you didn’t need to hack into our servers. You could have just asked me why I was here.”_

A cold lump of genuine fear settled into Sophie’s stomach and refused to move. “I know why you’re here,” she said – silently cursing the trembling in her voice. “How did you get this number?”

 _“Surprisingly easy if you know where to look,”_ Ford said, and if he’d been standing across from her sounding so smug Sophie knew she would have slapped him. _”Anyway, I know you’re going to try for the Andropov Collection. I wanted to give you a chance to forget it and surrender peacefully.”_

Sophie snorted, not quite believing that the son-of-a-bitch was choosing to bait her like this. “Even assuming what you say is true, I would love to hear your reasoning for why you think I would do something like that?”

 _”Oh I don’t think you’re going to just give up,”_ Ford admitted. _”You haven’t faced a worthy opponent in longer than either of us wants to admit, so you lack motivation to be sensible. Between you and me though, I have to admit I’ll be very disappointed if you give up without giving me at least a little bit of a fight.”_

And just like that she was back to being grateful he couldn’t see her. Sophie had no hard evidence he was intending his words to carry such a strong subtext, but there was something about the way he talked about her giving up or fighting him that was impossibly sexual.

“If you know so much about me,” she said, stepping out onto the balcony so the evening air could have a chance of cooling her suddenly overheated skin, “then you know that I don’t ‘swing that way’ as you Americans say.”

“Katherine does,” he said, although Sophie caught a slight wavering of his tone. “At least that’s what Richard Castle tells us. Either way, I promise you Jenny this is just business.”

 _And you love your work, don’t you?_ she thought, relishing the surge of triumph that flowed through her as she got the true measure of him and his feelings. “If it’s just business then,” she countered, “you will hopefully not take it personally when I refuse your generous offer.”

 _”There’s nothing personal about this,”_ Ford assured her, and she almost laughed out loud as she heard the lie in his voice. _”Occasionally I just like giving a particularly intelligent criminal a fighting chance.”_

“Consider it given,” she countered. “Now if there’s nothing else, I was going to get some dinner. Am I going to see you?”

 _”No,”_ he admitted. _”Now that we have an understanding between us, I have a lot of work to get done. You enjoy yourself though, and please give my regards to Pietro.”_

The line went dead as the ball of fear retook its place in Sophie’s stomach. Ford _was_ good – possibly the best she’d ever come up against – and for a brief moment she considered just abandoning the plan and running.

Her pride won out in the end, though. In all her years grifting literally across the world, taking what she wanted for herself whenever the mood struck her, Sophie Devereaux had never let anyone or anything dictate her movements. She wasn’t about to start now.

 _Except…_ she thought, looking fearfully at her phone. While she was reasonably sure Pietro had nothing in his life besides her that the law could use against him, loyalty demanded that she give him a proper warning and time to protect himself.

“This isn’t going to be a happy conversation,” she sighed, forcing herself to pick up the phone and dial her friend’s number.  
************************************  
“Ian doesn’t pay you nearly enough,” Nate said to Maggie, minutes after he’d hung up on Katherine or Jenny, or whoever the woman he was chasing really was. “That was a brilliant catch about Pietro Bartel. Whoever he is, she was seriously rattled when I threatened him.”

 _”Ian would have your backside for warning her you were ready for her,”_ Maggie said, but Nate knew his effusive praise of her research skills had pleased her. _”Nate, what were you thinking? She’s not going to go anywhere near the castle now.”_

Nate knew he was smiling so broadly his cheeks were on the verge of aching. “You’re wrong,” he said, nervous energy finally getting the better of him. “It’s all in her psychological makeup. Jenny’s a risk taker – she lives on the edge.” Pushing to his feet, he began to pace. “I’ve challenged her on the closest thing she has to home ground. This was the only way to _guarantee_ she targets the jewels.”

Ever the practical one, Maggie couldn’t help pointing out, _“You don’t know that Jenny is her real identity.”_

“I don’t know it isn’t, either,” he said, “but I think I’m right.”

They talked for the better part of an hour, the conversation eventually drifting to Maggie’s reports of Sam’s latest achievements in navigating the perils of infancy. “He’s not going to remember me when I finally get home,” Nate sighed, feeling an unexpected regret steal over him. He was missing so much, but they’d agreed Maggie would cut back on her work during Sam’s first year and there just wasn’t enough of a buffer in their finances to keep him from taking on extra hours and assignments wherever he could.

 _”Just promise me you’ll take a few days once you bring this one in, okay?”_ He almost wished she’d lied to him – told him some tale about the natural bond between fathers and sons to make him feel better – but that wasn’t who his wife was.

“I promise,” he said. The conversation drifted on for a few more minutes, and by the time he hung up his stomach was growling so loud he was surprised she couldn’t hear it. The urgency of his hunger convinced him to take advantage of room service again; as amusing as it would have been to spend the evening tailing Jenny, he was playing a game that required a fairly delicate touch. Challenging her openly would push her into a rash action. Continuing to poke at her ran the risk of pushing her from ‘fight’ to ‘flight’, at which point he would end up with nothing but the proverbial egg on his face and everybody around him laying a healthy dose of “I told you so” at his feet.

His brief conversation with the head of security at the Castle Gallery had been helped along by whatever groundwork Sterling had laid for him, but the man clearly thought that Nate was nuts and the whole grand enterprise was a waste of time. “Mr. Ford, there has not been a successful theft at our gallery in modern memory. Whatever this criminal is after, you may rest assured she will not acquire it.”

Nate knew the man was stretching his definition of ‘successful’ quite a bit, but decided to let him have it. There was little point in pissing off people you needed watching your back when everything went finally and irrevocably south. “Indulge me then,” he said. “I have very reliable intel that an attempt will be made on the Andropov Collection sometime in the next forty-eight hours. You put up with my overreactions until then and I promise you can share credit on the capture.”

There was a long pause. Ordinarily he would have assumed the man on the other end of the line was considering his offer, but he had no such reassurances here. “And if there is no capture,” the man asked – almost perfectly on cue.

“If there is no capture I go back to London with a glowing report about your professionalism and your willingness to cooperate with outside agencies,” he said promptly, sensing all the buttons he needed to push in order to gain the man’s cooperation and stepping on them virtually simultaneously.

The response was immediate and positive. “Mr. Ford, my men and I will be at your disposal.”  
*******************************  
It was late morning when Sophie left her apartment. Jenny’s favorite Michael Kors saddle bag was swinging from her shoulder; she looked carefree and happy, as though the most complicated thing in her immediate future was going to be choosing how much of her trust fund she was going to spend on new shoes and clothes.

Like so much of Sophie’s life the truth simmered beneath the surface, much darker than the glittering artificial shell. _”We’re done, Jenny.”_ Her call to Pietro had not gone well – even though he said everything she expected he would say, hearing the words out loud weighed heavy on her heart. _”I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but I am too old to go back to sexing up tourists to try and make the rent.”_

A one-way ticket to Istanbul was secured in the bottom of her bag, underneath the tools she would need in order to pull off the heist. Sophie wasn’t naïve enough to think that hitting the gallery in broad daylight would buy her any favors. If Nate Ford was as thorough as he’d already proven himself to be, he was already in position and prepared to stay that way until she made her move or he had confirmation she’d fled the country.

Sophie felt the back of her neck start to itch as she crossed the threshold into the Castle Gallery and barely resisted reaching up with her hand to rub at the irritation. _Soon,_ she thought, flashing her membership pass at the guard and joining the line into the main gallery. All the pieces were in place – the last phone call she’d made walking up the steps to the gallery entrance had confirmed that.

Ultimately the challenge wasn’t going to be stealing the jewels in broad daylight in the middle of a crowed hall. The real challenge was going to be getting Ford to chase her without risk of capture. It was a trick that would burn her last good connection in Prague, but if Madame Rubicon came through the way she promised Sophie would count it a victory.  
********************************  
No matter where he was in the world, there was a sameness to these sorts of rooms Nate found weirdly comforting. Banks of monitors showed bird’s eye views of every room in the gallery. Each security specialist on duty was responsible for two rooms, except for the one tasked with watching the wing housing the Andropov collection. Nate had gotten permission for him to devote all his attention to the target area until the threat of a robbery was well and truly past.

He had to give the team credit – the head of security was clearly on edge, and some of his nerves were transmitting themselves to his subordinate, but the man seated in front of him answered all of Nate’s questions in a calm, level voice that belied any worry.

“There she is,” he said, pointing at the edge of the screen, where people were only starting to trickle into range. The angle of the camera made it difficult to identify faces with 100% accuracy, but after the past several days Nate suspected he would be able to recognize Jenny from behind in the dark.

A thrill of adrenaline shivered through him as he watched her make her way through the crowd – every move so natural he began to suspect Jenny was her true identity after all.

“Why don’t we just take her into custody?” the head of security asked. “She’s here, we all know what she’s after…”

“Right now she’s just another tourist,” Nate said, unable to take his eyes away from the dark-haired beauty. “Jenny Agutter isn’t a thief – she’s suspected in a string of cons up and down the Riviera, but most of the people she’s taken from haven’t been willing to press charges. Assuming she didn’t bolt at the first sight of guards heading her way, we’d never be able to hold her.” He blew out a quiet breath as she passed near the display of priceless jewels, but paid them no direct attention as she headed for a display of period outfits on the opposite wall from where she’d been.

“Moving prematurely will only delay the inevitable,” he finished.

It was the last thing he was able to say before all hell broke loose. Klaxons began screaming across the entire gallery, signaling that a fire had broken out somewhere in the ancient structure. _What are the odds?_ Nate thought, fingers digging painfully hard into the back of the chair in front of him.

“Here we go,” he breathed. “Your men are in position?”

“Of course, Mr. Ford,” the security head snapped. “She may try to seize the jewels, but she will never hold them.”

Just then a theatrical puff of smoke enveloped the dais holding the jewels. Even knowing what was happening, Nate couldn’t stop himself being distracted for a fraction of a second. When he recovered enough to scan the growing chaos, his heart sank as he realized he’d lost track of Jenny.

 _You and me then,_ he thought, turning on his heel. “Move!” he shouted, shoving past the people standing between him and the door. After all the work he’d done on this case, he almost preferred it this way.  
******************************  
After all the build-up, taking the jewels was almost disappointingly easy. Once the smoke bomb she’d planted went off, adding to the rapidly growing confusion, she quickly donned a scarf to change her appearance for the camera, shrugged off Jenny, and slipped into the identity of Patrice Renault. Jenny might not have been a thief, but Patrice most assuredly _was_ , and there was nothing of Jenny or Katherine in the way she moved. If Ford was looking to track her movements by what he thought he knew, he was in for a rude surprise.

Of course, in the parameters of her ultimate plan Patrice would only carry her so far. _Come on my darling,_ she thought, hesitating within sight of the entrance long enough to pull off her scarf and catch his attention again.

It didn’t take long. “Jenny!” she heard a man call sharply above the rumble of the panicked crowd. Turning around, she waited long enough to identify Ford’s position and let him get a good look at her.

Then she ran. Sunshine blinded her for a moment after the gloom of the gallery’s interior, but she recovered quickly enough to make it down the stairs and into the taxi waiting at the front of the line. “Club Leonardo,” she said breathlessly as she tumbled into the backseat, pulling the door closed behind her.

She saw the cabbie’s eyes widen as he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Ford running full out towards them. “Madame, are you sure?” he asked.

“Go,” she gasped, letting a hint of frustration leak into her tone. “There’s an extra twenty euros if you don’t let yourself get stopped.”

She hadn’t liquidated these particular accounts yet, but she had her traveling money – enough to ensure that while her lead on Ford wouldn’t be enough to guarantee a clean getaway, it was enough to make sure that she stayed ahead of him into the city and the final phase of her plan.  
***************************  
Nate almost laughed out loud when he realized they were going to have a car chase after all – it was like something out of a Carey Grant movie that he didn’t associate with Jenny’s style at all. It was all he could do not to shout “follow that cab” as he gave his driver instructions and settled back into his seat.

As they threaded the streets of Prague at top speed, doubt began to creep into Nate’s thoughts. On some level he’d known he was playing fast and loose with property that wasn’t his, but now that the jewels were actually in the open, successfully lifted from their secure location and fleeing his grasp with a hundred million dollar payout riding on him being able to successfully retrieve them from one of the most talented thieves he’d ever faced, ropes of acid were tying themselves into knots in his stomach.

“Looks like they’re stopping,” the driver announced, jarring Nate from his worry. Leaning forward, Nate saw Jenny bailing out of the other car and running up the steps of the nearest building.

“Pull over here,” he instructed. Shoving a handful of euros at the man, he nearly fell out of the cab in his haste not to lose his prey. A handsomely carved marble sign on the building Jenny had entered proclaimed it “Club Leonardo”.

Taking the steps two at a time, he pounded frantically on the door. When it opened, he forced his way in – stammering hasty apologies as more people than he’d expected scattered in the wake of his invasion. A quick scan of the foyer revealed Jenny frozen half-way up the grand staircase. “Give it up!” he yelled, starting forward. “You’ve got nowhere to hide!”

Before he could reach the first step, Nate was swarmed by literally dozens of bodies. Instead of bearing him down though, they bore him forward. He struggled as hard as he dared, but there were simply too many of them. He was pushed to his knees on the second step, and his arm forced up against the railing. A moment later he heard a familiar metal-on-metal sound and realized his wrist was secured to the heavy wooden bannister with his own handcuffs.

The flow of people that had overwhelmed him ebbed, and Nate saw clearly for the first time that they were all women, all dressed in various costumes clearly intended for the bedroom. Craning his neck, he saw Jenny still in her place on the staircase, now looking anything but scared. “Welcome to Club Leonardo, Mr. Ford,” she called down at him. “It’s one of the highest class brothels in Prague.”

“Got that, thanks,” Nate countered, searching his pockets with his free hand for his keys.

A delicate whistle caught his attention, momentarily distracting him. Nate’s heart sank as he saw the woman standing just out of his reach, working the handcuff key off his ring. “I’ll pay,” he said, desperation overwhelming him for a moment. “Whatever she’s offered you – I’ll double it. Just cut me loose.”

The key came free in the woman’s hand. Grinning at Nate, she lobbed it into the air. He knew a moment of brightly burning hope as it arched through the air – quickly extinguished as it landed in Jenny’s open palm. “Take heart,” she said, sauntering now down the steps while staying carefully out of his reach. “I waved off the camera crew. Wouldn’t want your wife knowing where you spend your afternoons, hmm?”

“Fun’s over,” Nate said – genuinely worried now. He wasn’t in any _physical_ danger after all. “Let me go.”

Clucking her tongue, Sophie shook her head. “You’re a little too enthusiastic for my tastes, Mr. Ford. I think you need to cool off a bit, and I think Madam Jade is just the person to do it.”

“Jenny, please.” Catching her attention, Nate resorted to begging. “My wife…”

“Would kill you, I suspect,” Sophie interjected. “Or divorce you at the very least. But you were probably going to tell me she was innocent, that she had nothing to do with this?” She paused, and he saw true anger fill her eyes. “Doesn’t feel good to have the people close to you threatened, does it?”

 _Pietro Bartel._ Nate closed his eyes and felt genuine shame. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking at her again and willing her to understand that he really was.

“I believe you,” she said. “And maybe by the time you figure out how to free yourself, it’ll matter.”


End file.
